Broken Blades
by Vardarr
Summary: Two mercenaries, hired to escort two mysterious mages to the College of Winterhold, an Argonian Thief struggling with his ancient power, and a Khajiit assassin unsure of her allegiances, are all put to the test as the Dragon Crisis threatens to destroy everything they know. (Discontinued)
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

 _ **4E 175**_

The screams of battling warriors surrounded him, his fear would consume him if he did not concentrate. He was a legionnaire, dammit! He wouldn't succumb to fear, even if his fellow legionnaires did.

The Imperial City, once the trade capital of the Empire, now just a battlefield.

Bodies littered the streets, The faces of the fallen twisted in the fear and pain, in which they had died. His comrades in arms, his shield brothers and sisters, their broken bodies lining the streets of the capital of the Empire they were sworn to protect.

An Aldmeri soldier charged him, with his greatsword raised above his head, ready to strike. He narrowly managed to evade the blade, but the soldier was quick to counterattack. He blocked the sword, with swung with a frightening fury, the Altmers face stricken with anger.

After a few long moments, he had defeated the soldier, the fight had taken its toll on him. It had been difficult, the Altmer had been a challenge, he had been angry, but he was tall, fast and skilled, whereas he was slow in his heavy armor,small in comparison to the Elf, though he had natural skill in combat.

He stood there, consumed by his victory, small but a victory nonetheless. The battle had continued around him, of course it had, but when his focus had been on winning the duel, it felt as if time had stopped. He stood there consumed by his victory, when suddenly a pain emerged from his leg. He collapsed, in unimaginable pain, this was going to be his last.


	2. The Long Journey

Chapter 1: The Long Journey

4E 201

Vardarr sat at the table, pondering about tomorrow's journey. They had made to Falkreath, but Winterhold, at their current travel speed, was at least 4 days away. A journey to one of the coldest places still inhabited, and off the shores of Skyrim, was Atmora, a cold desolate place, not known to be inhabited at this point in time. Vardarr was not looking forward to it, the cold, though the College there, seemed like an interesting place from what he had heard.

On the opposite side of the table sat Nicodemus Luken, or simply "Nico", his Redguard friend, his trained body relaxing in his chair. Beside him sat the two mages that they were supposed to escort, Jornon and Tali, a Breton and an Altmer. Jornon, a man, was the most outspoken of the two, barking out orders in his deep voice. Tali on the other hand, had been quiet most of the journey, Vardarr had trouble remembering a single time, where she he knew she could speak, at least in the standard Tamrielic Tongue. He did not think ill of those who could not and would never speak the language, he simply couldn't understand their languages, Nico could, he had grown up in a village not far off from Hegathe. One of the leaders in village had been deaf, thus all in the small village were obliged to learn the language, the deaf man wouldn't accept another individual to speak his words, and given his status in the village, the villagers obliged him.

But here they were, seated in an inn in the province of Skyrim, two of them being paid to escort the others to their destination.

Mercenaries, that would be the ideal term for them, officially recognised by the Imperial Authorities, though Imperial Authority was close to a jest in most of Skyrim, unless the Civil War was just for show. "Mercenaries."Jornon snarled. "We will be retiring to our room, you are expected to guard us." he continued.

"As cold as an automaton." Nico said, his voice trailing off, what didn't trail off however was Nico's brown eyes, he expected Vardarr to make a sarcastic remark , he always did. "You know…." Vardarr let slip, "I doubt you would even get the chance to talk. Unless were a Dwemer, they built them, so they knew how to pacify them. " Vardarr said. Nico could not stifle the smile that was emerging on his face. Nico was amused, it was not the first time he had done it, it always put smiles on both their faces.

"I think i am going to bed." Vardarr said, standing up from his seat. "I will be ready to take over for you at 1 hour past midnight." Nico nodded, "Sleep well." Vardarr smiled and gave him his thanks, and returned the nightly goodbye. "Shame we can't both sleep at the same time." He had said.

Soon after their conversation Vardarr was fast asleep, and Nico guarding their clients

The next morning Vardarr, finally of his guard duty, sat at a rented table in the inn next to Nico and the two mages, consuming a morning meal. It seemed, that no matter how many times he had woken early, as a part of being a mercenary, he never quite got used to it. Yes he would be woken by Nico, he would rise from the bed and he would dress , but when he finally got out of his bed there was always the long lanky legs . Sometimes he forgot how "tall" he was, he wasn't as tall as an Altmer, but around the average height of a Nord. His father was a Nord, his mother Imperial, though she had never been considered small, not by Imperial Standards, he seemed to have inherited most of it from his father. Though his blonde hair did not bear similarities with any of his parents.

Thinking of his parents brought back memories, of his longtime home within Country Bruma.

They had lived in the warmer area of Country Bruma, closer to the lands encompassing the Imperial City. He remembered the tours, although they were few and far between, to the Imperial City. It had amazed him, it was something of a wonder to him then. Now he was saddened by the knowledge of the recent events. Neither the Empire or the Aldmeri Dominion, were perfect, but if he had to choose, he would choose the Empire.

"How far do you think we can make it today?" Said Jornon, in his stone cold voice.

"Whiterun, if we are lucky." Vardarr mused aloud,"Whiterun!" Jornon almost shouted. Vardarr felt his anger rising to the surface,he didn't want to be angry, it was a justified the way it was spoken, with such anger, they had sworn to protect them, with their lives, maybe they shouldn't have. "Please be calm, you know we can't just march on to we reach Windhelm. You don't want us to pay for a carriage ride, because of your fear of mage haters, and i doubt we can get there faster on foot!" Nico said, his patience clearly thinning. Jornons face embodied his annoyment, but after a few moments of speculation, he decided to push aside his impatience. "We won't stop for the night, before we have reached Whiterun." Jornon said in a tone that amputated all doubt, about the days destination." Jornon was a stubborn one, that had been reaffirmed time upon time, on their journey.

Vardarr hoped they would make to Whiterun before the end of the day, he didn't think the four slow, but they could be delayed significantly by bandits or others. Nico seemed to notice, he knew him well. He smiled and said: "Don't worry, Vardarr." Vardarr nodded and returned the smile, hoping he was right in his statement.


	3. Dragons and Drunks

**Chapter 2 : Dragons and Drunks**

 **4E 201**

A drunken shout rang out in the small room, the shout impossible to miss in the hollow hall. Throws-Many-Coins sighed, another drunkyard, and this one was a guard off his post.

He looked up from his cup of milk, there he was met with the face of the burly Nord Cook.

Earlier in the day, he had been berated by the Breton innkeeper, Delphine he believed her name was. It had not been loud, but it still had disturbed his sleep.

He was tired after all that had happen at Helgen, just weeks before.. Unjustly taken prisoner by the Imperials and almost was when the dragon appeared, It had caused such chaos, such destruction, it was a frightening creature to him.

He had walked in to town alongside his newfound friend, a Stormcloak Soldier, by the name of Ralof, he had offered to house him, in his sisters house. He would have slept on the floor, with a pelt, but he would rather sleep in a real bed.

Someone had made it to Whiterun, the capital of the hold, named after the city. He had been to tired, but the Jarl needed to be warned. Hours after the departure, soldiers arrived to fortify the villages defences.

" _Guards_ , _good for nothing_ …." The innkeeper muttered, he just shrugged.

He finally decided to go outside, the air was cold especially in the evening, but he liked it watching out over the lake and enjoying the landscape. You could say alot about Skyrim, but it wasn't an ugly landmass, not in his eyes.

Beyond the lake there where the top of the large rock formations that dominated the his view, there sitting atop it was a ruined tomb. Bleak Falls Barrow the locals had called it, there were many rumors floating around about the place, some thought it haunted, while others thought it a simple dusty old ruin.

" _The adventurer who ventured in there earlier is sure to find the truth_." He thought. He had seen him, earlier in the day, a young Nord, barely past his twenties, he said he had been told to venture there, by Jarl Balgruuf himself, and he would be rewarded if he retrieved some kind of stone, a "Dragonstone." he believed he had said. He didn't know if he believed that, it just seemed unlikely to the Argonian.

Not many had ventured through Riverwood in the time he had been there, a few merchants, the aforementioned adventurer, and two sellswords guarding a couple of mages.

It made it a small well functioning community, even if the blacksmith and Gerdur, a millowner, Ralofs sister, fought over their political differences.

Days had gone by, and the adventurer had never returned, the village folk were beginning to worried. He had made his choice. He had walked to the Blacksmith and paid for an axe and an low quality chest piece, with the gold he had earned while working at the mill, for last few weeks.

He would find the secrets and the man buried in the barrow, or he would end up as another corpse on the pile. He hoped the former would be the one to come true. Either way he went on his way, towards the barrow.


	4. City of Conflict

**Chapter 3: City of Conflict**

 **4E 201**

Whiterun, a dozen different smells, sounds , hung in the air. It was reassuring, they had made it here, before nighttime, Vardarr had feared the worst, he almost always did.

Vardarr looked to the architecture, it was unlike Falkreath or Riverwood, or any other settlements they had passed through. Though the same arguing people could be found, a man in imperial armor was arguing with one of the local blacksmiths, about a large order on swords. There was a war going on, as he was constantly reminded.

When they entered the market place, yet another pair were arguing, insults were yelled such as " _Stormcloak traitor_! _Backstabber_!" though the insults came mostly from the Nord man, who was wearing a prestigious looking green garb.

Vardarr walked up the steps to the Wind District, a withered tree entering his field of vision. " _Is that really the Gildergreen_?" Vardarr thought, he had heard stories about the grand gildergreen, it didn't look so grand to him at the moment. So the time he had, when he was not sleeping, traveling, or guarding someone, he had used on this. Seeing the Gildergreen, it was a disappointing sight.

" _It's a shame isn't it_?" Said a voice belonging to an aging woman, wearing priests robes.

" _Yes it is_ , _i have heard stories of it_ , _when it was at its full glory_."

" _I thought for a moment that i could enlist you to help return it_." The Priest paused,

" _But i completely forgot i had someone else do it_. _A Khajiit_ , _a real nice woman_.

 _To think she just offered to help_."

There was a few moments of silence, before the woman spoke yet again:

" _I apologize_ , _i didn't mean to ramble_." The priest said.

" _You're not the only one who rambles on occasion_." Vardarr said in a amused tone.

" _By Kyne_.." She muttered aloud.

" _It occurred to me that we have not been properly introduced_ , _i am Vardarr of the Ca'vatri familly_."

" _Danica, some even call me Pure-Spring_." Danica spoke in her aged voice.

" _Good to meet you_." Vardarr said, though his eyes quickly went to the hall on the hill, to the right the tree and the benches they were standing by. The Companions, a legendary group of warriors, tales of their victories had spread to Cyrodiil of course. Though, he had heard that they followed the general rules that was followed by Ysgramor, their founder. Vardarr and Ysgramor wouldn't agree on many things if they met, but of course that would never happen, Ysgramor was long dead, but it was Tamriel afterall.

The contents of a cup entered Vardarr's throat, cold water was always refreshing for him. Some liked to drink alcohol, but he never really felt the appeal to drink it, he would probably end up rambling even more, than he already did.

" _Water, restorative isn't it_?" Nico quipped, referring to the common method of cleansing water among magic users.

Nico, the origin of his name had always eluded him, it sounded more like a typical Breton name to him. He wouldn't judge if his parents just liked the name and decided that their son would bear it, sometimes he couldn't help but wonder why?

His thoughts were interrupted by the noise of a brawl, an Imperial Beating on a Nord screaming. " _The dragons are not back_! _The dragons are not back_!" A guard was moving towards him sword raised, after his failed attempt at calming the men down. The imperial looked at the guard and said in a frightened voice: " _They can't be_ ….. _they can't_ …" The guard and one of his colleagues removed the man, while a third guard grabbed the other. They walked out with the two men, presumably bringing them both to the dungeons.

He had heard the rumors about Helgen, he didn't want them to be true either, hopefully it would soon be resolved.


	5. Death and Decay

Chapter 4: Death and Decay

4E 201

The knife slashed through the sleeping mans flesh, no one could save him. Ju'kiri'ka slowly removed her hand from his mouth, there had been no hope for the man or his servants the moment someone placed a contract on their heads. No one would miss them, a band of bandits, Skyrim, no Tamriel, was better off without them.

She took out her note, her mark, akin to something she had received back in the day, a black hand on parchment and the words "We know." Scribbled below. It let them know, it let them know who to fear, and by Sithis she swore to restore the fear and respect the Brotherhood had once.

The Khajiit sighed, she hadn't thought herself so loyal to the brotherhood, perhaps she wasn't. But at the moment they seemed like her only option, she doubted the Morag Tong would take her in, she would be an ex Dark Brotherhood assassin, the two groups weren't exactly fond of eachother. But she would find her way, she had promised herself as much.

The smell of death filled Throws-His-Coins' nostrils, blended with the smell of smoke, emanating of the torch he was carrying. He had walked up the path to the ruin, finding a small watch tower with 2 corpses strewn on the floor of the construct, they had presumably been bandits. There had been more corpses at the only visible entrance to the ruin, the adventurer had definitely been there.

Now he was walking through a passage, tunnel like in design, spotting a room at the end, along with another body. There was a puzzle required to open the gate sitting at the end. He hadn't found the adventurer, so he assumed he had gotten through and closed the gate behind him, to avoid possible pursuit. It was easy to solve it, almost too easy. "How come it is so easy?" The Argonian thought. He quickly drove the thought out of his mind, he had to continue journeying through the ruin.

Beyond the gate he was met with a small room, and a spiral staircase to the left of the gate. He went down the steps, slowly he didn't know what was down there. At the foot of the steps were 3 skeevers, dead. "Disgusting creatures." was the only thought that formed in his mind. He continued until finding 2 archways, covered in cobwebs, were there really that many spiders here or was there…. no he didn't want to think of the possibility that he would have to face one of them alone. They had been in the caves he and Ralof traveled through ,during their escape from Helgen. But Ralof had taken charge then, he was worried if he could even defeat one alone, alone in the dark.

But he had to. He slowly walked in the room filled with webs, and bodies, many bodies. He could only guess, but the adventurer probably didn't make through. At Least he didn't believe so, the spider was nowhere to be seen, but there was a gaping hole in the ceiling, perhaps it was waiting to ambush another unwary adventurer.

But after moments of waiting the spider seemed to notice its prey wasn't going to walk into it's trap. It dropped down and quickly shot poison at the Argonian

He stood tall. proud, he laughed at the spider. The foolish creature didn't know Argonians were naturally resistant to poison.

The spider seemed to have noticed it too, before Coins had time to act his left leg and the tip of his tail, were trapped in the spider's web. Dammit he had been too slow, if he had moved out of it's way, he could have managed to get to it, and kill it. More webs hit his body, fighting for control, Coins attempted to free himself of the webs, but to no avail.

As the spider descended on it's captured prey, Coins tried to prepare himself for his imminent, slow and painful death. But suddenly fire engulfed the spider, it shrieked in pain, before collapsing, dead.

The spellcaster stepping out into the light, Aramila Stone-Breaker , a fierce Nord, and a friend of Coins. They had become friends in the village, in the days following Helgen.

" _Well_ , _thought you needed some help_." She quipped.

" _Thank you_."

" _You owe me_ , _and by Shor_ , _i won't forget it_." It came from the tall woman.

" _Let us journey onwards_."

Another archway, at the other end of the room, showed the way forward, but he stopped there when he found a book, and what looked like a dragons claw, made of gold.

It looked like it belonged to one of the spiders victims, he had wanted to drop them again, but Aramilia stopped him. She said something about it being a key to these old ruins, she would now, it was her people who built them back in the day. The foray into the ruins was sure to not be an uneventful one.


	6. Increasing Disagreements

**Chapter 5: Increasing Disagreements**

 **4E 201**

The road had twisted, revealing twin towers standing guard over the river. No hold banners could be seen, but it was a foggy day, but worry snuck up on Vardarr nonetheless. " _What should we do_?" he questioned,

" _We kill the scum_!" Jornon fiercely stated, his anger displayed clearly across his face.

" _What did you think we were going to do_ , _you idiot_?!"

" _We don't know if they are Bandits_ , _and if they are, how should we approach them_?" Vardarr said barely containing his nonchalant facade, as his anger was rising.

Jornons anger was rapidly increasing as he said: "Y _ou damned idiot_ , _what do you think we pay you two for_!"

" _You want to charge in there and find out how it feels to die_? _Do it then_!" Vardarr said, almost screaming with anger.

" _Both of you_ , _calm down_!" Nico said, " _You're acting more irresponsible than a damned daedra_!"

Vardarr looked to the ground, he hated when this happened, he just couldn't control his anger.

" _I apologize, for my outburst_ ," Vardarr said, after a few moments, his voice no more than a whisper.

Jornon just simply hung his head, in a way that said, annoyment.

They decided after a short debate, without the insults. Tali would cloak herself and move to a suitable ambush location, while the three others went to the towers, hoping their suspicions about the bandits, demanding a toll, to be correct.

They were at the foot of the tower now, but there had been no reaction them. It felt like a trap, but regardless Nico opened the door to the tower, walking in and looking around frantically.

He went out of Vardarrs view, a few agonizing moments went by before he came into view.

" _She is dead_ …."

" _What_?"

He made a gesture with his hand, see for yourself.

When Vardarr stepped in there it was, a corpse of a armored redguard woman, slit across the throat. A bandit to be sure. The pattern continued, armored corpses with slit throats, until it was found. In a large double bed in the upstairs of the North Tower, was a bandit corpses, in the surrender of a chief, he must have been. On him was a unfolded note, a black hand adorning the paper, with the words: "We know." written below. Vardarr was in shock, he was a meter away from the corpse and the note, he was frozen, the Brotherhood, they had to get out of here.

He hurried out of the tower, he almost missed Nico who was looking through alchemical supplies.

" _What is going on_?"

Vardarr quickly turned, " _We need to get out of here_!"

" _The Dark Brotherhood_."

Nicos face paled.

" _You're right_ , _continue the journey_ , _just like before_." Nico quickly said, fear evident in his voice.

Vardarr was relieved to be out of the towers, if the Dark Brotherhood had been here, it wasn't safe, even if they had left.


	7. Dancing with Draugr

**Chapter 6 : Dancing with Draugr**

 **4E 201**

Swords clashed, in terrifying duel of skil. Coins was fighting hard, this Draugr was tough, it had taken several several hits already, and it had even survived Aramilas fire spell.

It had risen from a coffin placed in the cavern they were now fighting in, a wall inscribed in a lagaune that was unknown to him, placed behind the coffin. He thought he was going insane, but he thought he heard voices coming from the wall, calling to him.

The Barrow had been larger than he thought, perhaps there were other rooms in this ruin, but something about the cavern just felt like a final, the one holding this "Dragonstone". He had seen the stone, it was strapped to the Undeads belt.

The Dragonstone, how far they had made it to find something they still didn't know the purpose of. But it was a promise he had made to himself, he had not known him, but he had seemly set out to help the Jarl, it would seem. It must have been important.

When they had gone down the halls, they had been met with a small hall, it's walls filled with corpses, a Nordic burial. At the end of the hall, in the left corner, was yet another archway adorning the tunnel connecting it to the other room, was slinging axes.

Suddenly the dead had risen, 4 of them descended on them. Quickly overcoming his shock he had struck one of the undeath soldiers, across his stomach. Aramila had dispatched the foes attacking her, in a matter of minutes, he really should learn some Destruction spells.

He quickly braced for the next strike, as the other undead attacked, though slow, the swing was powerful. After a couple of intense moments, he defeated the undead, by beheading her.

" _Well_ …."

" _Draugr_." Aramila had said.

They had proceeded to to carefully and slowly, slide under the blades, unshcathed.

There had been more of the " _Draugr_ " of course, he had wondered why they were fighting them, there didn't seem to be any mage, raising them, sp why? Perhaps he would never know. But they wanted the claw that he had picked up, always trying to acquire it when fighting, they had not succeeded. He had hoped this claw was worth it, and fortune smiled upon him when a seemingly unlockable door, opened by way of the claw.

Behind it there had been the cavern, the very same they were fighting in at the moment.

The Draugr finally lay defeated at their feet.

" _Undead_." He uttered in a tired voice.

He quickly picked up the Dragonstone, a table inscribed with a map of Skyrim and specific locations marked. " _A treasure map on a stone, who would have though_ t".

Aramila chuckled, he realised he had said aloud.

All they needed to do at the moment was find a way out and return it to the Jarl. It seemed simple.


	8. Cold Hearts and Cold Deeds

**Chapter 7: Cold Hearts and Cold Deeds**

 **4E 201**

Winterhold, they had finally made it. Vardarr was content, he could get out of the cold, and put some distance between him and Jornon. But he already dreaded the journey back, be it to Whiterun or Cyrodiil, he hated the cold.

Maybe he should stay, apply to the College, to further his Restoration, abilities. He had thought about it the whole evening, since they got there, and the two mages left for the same college. It was late when he had decided, but he was happy with his choice, even if he wasn't getting rid of Jornon.

He was standing at the entrance alone, Nico had left earlier in the morning. They had argued.

"The College? Is this one of your jests? _Don't you know enough about Restoration already_? _Think of your father_!"

" _No_ , _i am really going there, to further my abilities_ , _in the schools of Magic_. _I know you don't like it_ , _i want to learn more_ , _i have to learn more_. _It will help in battle_ , _i will make myself invaluable to you out there_ , _when i am done learning_ , _i promise_." He said, not addressing the mention of his father's death.

Nico stood there for agonizingly long moments before answering:

" _You go there_ , _it will be without me_."

" _As you say_ …." Vardarr had said saddened

He had tried to bury the memory, since he left. It had felt like an eternity, but in reality it was only a few hours. But he had finally gathered the courage, and resolve to go to the College.

" _Cross the bridge at your own peril_! _The way is dangerous_ , _and the gate will not open_. _You shall not gain entry_!" It had been uttered by a female Altmer, a guard.

" _Friendly_." Vardarr thought, sarcasm, that was something he liked to use, even in his thoughts.

" _What is it you seek_?"

Vardarr shrugged. " _I just want to see what it looks like on the inside_." Vardarr said, a grin spreading across his facial features.

She laughed " _Humor is often in short supply here_. _But i sense that perhaps you are after more than just that_." She paused.

"I _t would seem the College has what you seek_. _The question now is what you can offer the College_? _Not just anyone is allowed inside_. _Those wishing to enter must show some degree of skill with magic_. _A small test if you will_."

" _Well_ , _i would say i am adept at Restoration_ , _i hope to learn about Alteration too_. I am _unfortunately quite a novice at it_ , _Alteration_." He added the last part out of habit, more than anything else.

" _Good then cast a healing spell, on the sigil here._

He cast the spell, directing it towards the sigil carved into the cold stone floor. A strange sound rung out, " _Well done, indeed. I think you'll be an excellent addition to the College. Welcome, Apprentice. I'll lead you across the bridge. Once you're inside you'll want to speak with Mirabelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. Please, follow me."_

He followed her over the ice thin bridge, only to see a Breton woman dressed in mages garbs, presumably this Mirabelle Ervine, from the looks of her garb, and a Thalmor Justiciar arguing.

A Thalmor here, should he run? But they have no jurisdiction here, right? After a few intense moments of arguing the Altmer left. He finally approached the Breton. " _I was sent here by the guard_."

" _Faralda_." She corrected.

" _Apologizes_. _My name is Vardarr Ca'vatri_."

" _Mirabelle Ervine_."

" _So_ , _you have proven yourself i take it_ , _we have some clothing items for you_. _Though you are not required to wear them, but_ they _might be more comfortable than your..._ current _clothes. But before it i i would like to show you around the College._

" _There is one more thing."_

 _She paused,_

" _Welcome to the College of Winterhold."_


	9. Unrest

**Chapter 8: Unrest**

 **4E 201**

Nico trekked through the snow, what was he going to do? He had been betrayed by Vardarr, at least he felt that way, so he had left. But where should he go? They had been a warrior couple, fighting by the others side, but now he was alone.

It had taken much thought, but he had decided to journey to Windhelm, to join the Stormcloaks. He didn't like the discrimination some of them displayed while they had stopped in Windhelm days back, but they couldn't all be like that, right? Like the Stormcloaks, he fought with anger in his heart, at least he had when a group of bandits, had attacked him after leaving Winterhold.

It was time for change.

A dragon, he was going to fight a dragon, Coins was nervous, even with the guards and Aramila at his side, he still feared their defeat. They had gotten back with the claw, with no serious injuries. The Jarl had been skeptical, but eventually, he surmised they were telling the truth. Before anything else happened, reports were delivered, a dragon was attacking one of the holds watchtowers. The pair was sent to kill it, along with the Housecarl, Irileth, and a group of guardsmen.

They approached the watchtower, burning debris scattered around the area. Suddenly a survivor, a guard, emerged from the ruined watchtower.

" _No_! _Get back_! _It's still here somewhere_! _Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it_!" he said, his voice trembling with fear.

A roar pierced the silence, the dragon was coming to finish it.

Coins and Aramilia hurried for the cover of the tower.

Aramila quickly stopped and took a shot at the dragon with her destruction spell. It hit the creatures wing, destroying its ability to fly. Bows were fired, spells were casted and finally the dragon went down, it's wings too damaged to support it weight in the air.

Coins and the guards quickly moved on it. The dragon lashed out with it's tail, instantly killing one of the guards, another was soon crushed by the dragons sharp claws. In the confusion Coins struck at its throat, reeling in pain the dragon attempted to kill him with its tail. He narrowly managed to dodge, quickly climbing on top of the dragon. It attempt to throw him off, but with the continuing firebolts and arrows raining down on it, its strength was fading. Coins thrust his sword through the creatures skull, it let out a terrifying final breath before collapsing.

" _We did it_ …. _we really did it_!" Coins said, filled with disbelief.

Suddenly Coins felt a subtle rumble coming from the dragon, light exploding out from the fallen dragon, blinding Coins, he fell down, landing hard on the muddy soil.

He slowly rose from the ground, wondering why nobody had tried to help him, was the dragon still alive. It wasn't, but when he looked he knew why nobody had come to help him.

The dragons skin had dissolved, leaving only the skeleton.

Suddenly the surviving guardsmen and Aramila began shouting: " _Dovahkiin_! _All praise the Dovahkiin_!"

He realised It was all directed at him.


	10. Way of the Thief

**Chapter 9: Way of the Thief**

 **4E 201**

The smells of the Flagon invaded Coins' nostrils, coupled with the flagon being located in a sewer, it was not pleasant. He had been here for about 2 months now, he couldn't take him apparently being the Dovahkiin destined to save the world.

After the dragon had been slain something even more unexpected happened.

The ground had trembled then, and an otherworldly voice had called out to him.

" _Dovahkiin_!"

The Jarl had believed him and had urged him to go to High Hrothgar, the monastery where the monks who had supposedly called him in the thunderous voice lived, but he wasn't ready for such a responsibility.

He had taken off from Whiterun in the middle of the night, alongside Aramila. They had gone to Riften and joined up with the Thieves Guild, it had taken a long time to convince her to go, but eventually she had budged.

It had been easy, easier than he had expected, but then again he was unfortunately not a novice at thieving.

He had been on multiple heists so far, Aramila had not participated in a heist, so far, despite being a member of the Thieves Guild. She didn't like stealing. He was soon to go out on another one, a Goldenglow Estate, located on the island out on the lake beyond the City.

It would be easy for him.


	11. Initiation

**Chapter 10: Initiation**

 **4E 201**

The corridors of the mansion were silent, Coins was unnerved by it. It wasn't easy to know where the guards were, he didn't want to fight them, regardless if they had been hired by an enemy of Maven Black-Briar. He didn't like the woman anyway, she had the whole of Riften a her fingertips, using the thieves guild to get what she wanted. He liked to think that there was honor among thieves, but he hadn't found it in Skyrim's Thieves Guild, yet.

" _You wish to join us_?" Came the booming voice, belonging to Ulfric Stormcloak.

" _Yes my Jarl_." He said, he had to be careful, he had heard about Ulfric's temper.

He brought a hand to his chin, seeming to be deep in thought.

" _There is a bandit cave_ , _they call it_ " _The Lost Knife Hideout_." _Fitting that you would be the one to plunge a knife into the worthless scum_.

Nico hesitated,, " _I_ …. _Alone_? I know how to fight, but to destroy an entire bandit clan, alone?

" _Yes_ , _if i am not mistaken your culture involves the best fighting techniques Tamriel has seen_ , _or haven't you been raised to follow it_?"

Arrogant son of a-, Nico quickly stopped his thoughts, he couldn't afford for this meeting to go sour.

" _Then their lives are forfeit_."

It had been a adventure, journeying to the cave had taken time, but it wasn't the difficult part.

He had fought and bled, but the bandits were the only ones losing their lives. Walking in to Windhelm with an injured shoulder, Nico had missed Vardarr and his Restoration Magics. The local alchemist had a potion that had helped him, he had been the only one in the store, besides a Khajiit woman.

" _My Jarl_ , _the bandits have been obliterated_." 

Ulfric looked at him for a moment, considering his words, before barking out:

" _Very good_. _Galmar will handle your equipment_."

The Barracks were a sore sight, beds for the individual soldiers and a few tables and chairs where they could consume their food, but at least it was safe. The rest of the town was in an uproar, he had felt it when he had returned, the atmosphere was different, tainted. A woman had been murdered, and a only a month before her sister was the one killed. It was a sadding tale, but Nico hoped the guards would catch the killer, before they struck again, for all their sakes.


	12. Memories

**Chapter 11: Memories**

 **4E 171**

The warmth, he didn't know if he could take it anymore. Hammerfell, they were here because of the war, the war between The Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion.

He was almost surprised that he hadn't died from the heat already. Nords weren't built for the heat of Hammerfell.

" _Kaval_." Came the relieved voice of his wife, a battlemage in the Legion, serving alongside her soldier husband.

" _Vesian_ , _i am glad you are alright_ " The Nord said in a warm voice.

The Imperial embraced the Nord in a loving hug.

As they stood there embraced in the hug, his thoughts drifted to the war. Were they losing already, what would happen if they were? He was afraid, afraid of the consequences, if they suffered a defeat.

* * *

 **4E 202**

Vardarr awoke, startled, with sweat dripping down his face. There had been another nightmare, about his father's death. They had been occurring for years, at uncertain times.

He sat up on his bed, looking towards the wall with an empty gaze. He hated the nightmares.

Years, he had only been half a year at the College. But he had learned, he could successfully cast armor spells, belong to the Alteration disiplin. He had learned mostly from a elderly man named Tolfdir, an expert in Alteration,, and Colette Marence a Breton Restoration master. He was still a Novice in the Destruction discipline however. At times the College seemed so empty but there were of course, other students too, he had made friends with a few of them. Namely a Dunmer named Brelyna, and a Nord by the name of Onmund.

It was still hard to believe that 6 months had gone by, 6 months since Nico had left.

" _We have arranged a expedition to the ancient city of Saarthal,_ _we would want you all to participate_ , _and hope we can learn more about it_." Tolfdir had said.

He had managed to sleep a nightmare free sleep, now he was standing in the Hall of the Elements, the main teaching hall of the College, along with the other students.

Saarthal, an ancient Nord city, sacked during the infamous Night of Tears. He had been told as much by the librarian.

He wondered what Saarthal had in store for them, regardless they were about to earn more knowledge.


End file.
